


A Tale Of Two Spankings

by CrazedPanda



Series: They Made Me Do It: short stories inspired by random convos with my spanking sisters [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Discipline, Domestic Discipline, Gen, Hairbrush, Punishment, Spanking, maintenance spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 00:03:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15569283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazedPanda/pseuds/CrazedPanda
Summary: This was completely unplanned. I guess I'll consider it a palette cleanser after finishing the most recent chapter of 'Home Is Wherever I'm With You' and before hopefully finishing the final chapter of 'Keeping Of Promises'. I just wrote it as a little gift to the usual suspects ToscaRosetti and Edge_of_Clairvoyance, but they said I should post it so here we are. This is all completely their fault XD





	A Tale Of Two Spankings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Edge_of_Clairvoyance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edge_of_Clairvoyance/gifts), [ToscaRossetti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToscaRossetti/gifts).



I stepped out of the shower and toweled off as best I could. I wasn't in a hurry to go out there, but he wouldn't appreciate if he thought I was dawdling on purpose. John hadn't mentioned it since we'd returned to the hotel, but there was no way he forgot, and he knew me well enough that my nervous energy when he told me to take first shower would have been a clear sign to him that I remembered. 

I forced my clean tank top, underwear, and pajama shorts over my still damp skin with butterflies in my stomach, knowing that two out of three of those would not be staying on for very long.

I took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door. I peered around the room and to my relief saw that Sam and Dean weren't around. I felt myself blush at the thought that they knew what was about to happen, but it wasn't nearly as embarrassing as them actually witnessing it, so I counted myself lucky. 

John was sitting on the bed closest to the door. When I made eye contact with him he gestured to me. “Come on, let's get this over with.” I had to agree, in theory. I was having a hard time getting my legs on board with this logic, but I made my way over to him, and awkwardly bent over his lap. 

He helped maneuver me into position, and rested a hand on my back. “I want you to know how proud I am of you today. I know how hard it was, that witness was being an ass, but you took my warning to heart, focused up, and it's partially thanks to you we were able to wrap this case as fast as we did - you know that?”

“Yessir. Thank you sir. It helped, that I knew you were watching me. Not like you didn't trust me or were waiting for me to screw up, but like you had my back and knew I could handle it.”

“Of course, you're a good kid, and a real asset in the field, when you remember to follow orders. I just want to be sure you know you did good. This spanking is not a punishment, it's just maintenance. We agreed on once a week to help you remember to be respectful and obedient, isn't that right.”

It wasn't really a question, but I replied with a “Yessir,” my voice breathless. My adrenaline was kicking up. I felt like such a wuss, this was going to be nothing. Comparatively. 

“Alright then.” *SLAP*

I whined and jumped, immediately feeling hot embarrassment. The first swat - over my shorts even - and I was reacting like a baby. “Sorry, sir.”

“You're okay. Just stay in position.”

“Yessir.”

*SMACK* . . . *smack* . . . *smack* . . . *smack* . . . *SMACK* . . . *SMACK* . . . 

I managed to hold myself still over his lap, but the heavy slaps quickly built up a burn even through the layers of clothes. He was avoiding my exposed flesh for now and just aiming for the meat of my ass, completely covering it until it was tingling and throbbing. I had started whimpering in earnest. An “ow,” escaped from between my clenched teeth every once in awhile, but I wasn't ashamed of it any more. I didn't have the brain capacity for concentrating on unnecessary things like that. Plus, anyone who had something to say, I welcome them to take a butt whooping from John freaking Winchester and try to endure it silently. Not even Dean could manage that, but you didn't hear that from me. 

Finally the smacks stopped and he let me catch my breath. I knew it wasn't over, but the brief reprieve was nice. He kept his hand on my back and the weight was warm, comforting. John's touch always was, even when he was in the middle of busting your ass. 

“Lift up.” I held up my hips so he could work my shorts off till they were hanging at my knees. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. 

*SLAP, slap, smack* . . . *SMACK, thwack, SMACK* . . . *smack, SMACK* . . . 

John had switched up the tempo. Two or three swats to each cheek with short pauses in between. I could definitely feel the difference with just my underwear protecting me from his calloused hand. 

Some of his swats fell on the exposed skin on the undercurve of my cheeks and I started feeling my breath hitch with the beginnings of sobs. It seemed to last for hours, but it was probably less than two minutes when he paused again. I felt the first tears drip from my lashes and onto John's pant leg. I tried to get my breathing back to normal. Damn it, my entire bottom felt like I'd sat on a nest of fire ants, and we still had one more phase to go. 

Sure enough. “Up.”

I obediently lifted my hips again and my underwear went to join my shorts. I whimpered in anticipation.

“You're okay. We're almost done. You're going to keep remembering to be obedient and respectful, especially on hunts, aren't you, little girl?”

“Yessir.”

“You know what'll happen if you don't.”

“Yessir, I'll get a real spanking, sir.”

“Good girl. Alright, I'm going to finish up here.”

I wrapped my hands around his leg, not wanting to be tempted to reach back, and the swats started raining down on my bare butt without pause. I was full on crying now, occasionally punctuating my soft sobbing with a loud whimper. Just when it seemed like the fire he was igniting in my ass was unbearable, it stopped. I muffled the last of my cries in the thick denim. 

“Good girl. You took that very well. You did such a good job today, and you're going to continue to behave, aren't you, y/n?”

 

I sniffed loudly, “Yessir. Th-thank you, sir.”

“I'll always give you what you need.” He helped me stand up and righted my clothes for me. “You want to watch tv with me until the boys get back with dinner?” 

“Yes, please!” 

He repositioned himself so he was sitting back against the headboard and I laid down on my side, curling into him while he started flipping through channels. He put his other arm around me and trailed his fingers across my back and shoulders. The exhaustion of the day, and the drone of the show we settled on, added to the luxury of getting to cuddle with the teddy bear side of John that few got to see, and quickly relaxed me to the point of near sleep. It definitely paid to be his good girl. 

 

_ - _ -_ - _ -_ - _ -_ - _ -_ - _ -

 

John barely got the motel room door unlatched with one hand. He kicked it open while landing a few more stinging swats to my already sore bottom. I had stopped even trying to dodge them. It was pointless with him holding me so close to him by my elbow, and it just made him more pissed when I did it. 

Sam and Dean followed behind. The looks they shot my way were not sympathetic, even when a particularly vigorous swat caused them to wince.

At this rate I was going to get a full length spanking before he even got me to the bed. He'd spent a few minutes warming my ass before putting me in the car, tersely promising that that was just a prequel (as if that hadn't been obvious) and the whole way from the parking lot he'd been peppering my butt with no-nonsense swats.

I could feel myself lose the battle to keep silent at the punishing blows, and it fully started sinking in just how badly I'd screwed up. John freaking Winchester could make whatever point he needed to even through thick jeans, and I knew I was not going to have the benefit of their protection for much longer. 

When he'd finally dragged me over to the bed, he gave me five or six more hard smacks and stood glaring at me and breathing hard. “Take off your shoes. I want your pants off and your bare ass over my lap. You got sixty seconds.”

“Yessir.” I squeaked and went to work stepping out of my clothes as fast as I could. Oh yeah. He was not happy. When I was naked from the waist down, John sat on the bed and pulled me over his lap. He wasted no time resuming raining down punishing swats on my already toasted rear and it wasn't long before he was getting sobs out of me.

I gripped the edge of his jeans, knowing it wouldn't end well for me if I were to reach back to try to block my just punishment. My bottom felt like an inferno, but he was nowhere near done. Which is why my heart sank when he suddenly stopped. This was bad. Oh this was so bad.

Sure enough, he helped me stand up and looked into my eyes with a gaze that could strike fear into beings much more intimidating than the pathetic picture I no doubt presented at this point. “Go over to your duffle. Bring me your hairbrush. Now.”

I couldn't stop the terrified moan that escaped at this confirmation. I stumbled to obey as fast as I could - you can always buy your way into worse trouble with John.

As I passed Sam and Dean, their faces were still grim and I somehow managed to feel embarrassed that they were witnessing my being reduced to a naughty, sobbing, well-punished little girl, but didn't pause in my mission. 

I held the heavy wooden hairbrush gingerly in two fingers and made my way back. He took the brush and dumped me back over his knees. 

“What were you told to do?”

“W-wait in the car, sir.”

“And did you obey your orders?”

“No sir, I'm sorry, sir!” it was true enough. 

“I'm sure you are. You're still getting the hairbrush. You disobeyed a direct order on a hunt. You not only put the mission in jeopardy, but you endangered the lives of every person involved. Mine, Dean's, Sam's, - and yours.”

I was crying outright now and he hadn't even started. The thought that my thoughtless actions could have hurt any of these men I considered family . . . And the fact he listed my life last, with a hitch that clearly indicated such a thing was unthinkable for him, that he somehow considered my life so valuable that that was obviously what had so angered him the most about my idiotic choice. I felt sick. As much as I was dreading it, I knew I deserved what was coming. 

“Yes, sir. I'm so sorry!”

He trapped my legs between his. 

After that, all I knew was the pain of the oval hardwood surface striking my tender skin over and over. He didn't pause, he didn't lessen the blows once I started wailing pitifully. He just spanked. Until every inch from the top of my ass all the way to the tops of my thighs was in agony and my throat hurt from crying. Until I just lay limp and accepted the fact he was just going to keep spanking my raw bottom for the rest of eternity. 

It took me a moment to realize he'd stopped. My tears were still soaking into the denim of his jeans and I lay still, continuing to cry for several minutes. His hand was on my back and it grounded me to reality. There was a tenderness to the touch and I knew he still loved me, that I was forgiven. I hadn't quite managed to fully stop the hitches in my breathing, but I suddenly needed to hear it. 

“I - I, I'm s-soor-rry.”

“I forgive you, baby girl. I love you so much, and I will not lose you. Definitely not for something as senseless as you not being able to remember to follow orders. You hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Here, stand up. Easy.” He supported me by my elbows while I got my balance, then wrapped me in a bear hug. When we had disentangled from the embrace after a long minute, he wiped some of the remaining tears from my face with his thumb.

“If you ever do anything that foolish again, I'm bringing my belt into the conversation. Do you understand me?”

I felt my face pale, I could only manage a horrified whisper, “Yessir.”

“Go get into a pajama shirt and come to bed.”

I went to obey and as I passed by Dean, he grabbed me in a tight hug of his own, murmuring in my ear in a passable imitation of his father, “You ever do anything that foolish again, _I'm_ gonna be part of the conversation. Got it?” 

I gulped audibly and stammered a yessir. Dean wasn't usually ‘sir’, but right now, he obviously was.

Sam just gave me a grim look that echoed his brother's promise, and an equally sincere hug. 

In a fresh pj shirt and underwear that felt like sandpaper on my scorched rear, I climbed into the bed. John patted his leg and I positioned myself on my stomach with my torso draped in his lap. He started gently drawing random patterns across my back and I felt myself drifting to sleep despite the throbbing. I knew I was loved and forgiven. That my family cared enough that they would always act in my best interest. Even if that meant knocking some sense into me from time to time via a thoroughly tanned bottom. I just hoped next time I remembered the value of listening to instructions _before_ I found myself in this position.


End file.
